First Kiss On
by WritingisLove
Summary: Kristoff and Anna are clumsily watching their friendship turn into more, while Elsa is dealing with a new set of problems: finding a proper suitor and dealing with Hans's brood of older brothers, who have come to make peace between the kingdoms. Will Elsa find love? Will Kristoff and Anna stay in it? Will Olaf ever make it to the beach? [KristoffxAnna, ElsaxOC, Post-Frozen]
1. Chapter 1

****I hope everyone will enjoy this one! This fic is NOT SMUT, but it is laced with a few moments where Kristoff is very attractice. I have plenty more chapters coming this week. I know it starts with Kristanna but Elsa's love life will heat up soon!**

**Thank you very much, xxMeMoRiEzxx on deviantart, for letting me use your art as the cover art for the fic. **

**Xx Hayley**

Kristoff watched Anna stumble across the ice. Elsa was guiding her along on the skates she had just made. Kristoff could not believe how sweet the sisters were together, like they'd never been apart, even for a day. Anna was so natural and calm and giggling, like she hadn't just kissed him for the first time.

A few hours ago, she had surprised him with a brand-new replacement sled and lute. He had no idea that she would actually hold up her end of the bargain and replace his sled. He was so touched, and one thing led to another, and they wound up kissing on the dock. He wasn't quite sure who had initiated it, but she definitely wasn't as phased as he was. Her kiss was all he could think about.

He watched her skate around for a while longer, but night would fall shortly, which left him wondering what he should do next. Should he head on home? He and Anna had a thing, right? That kiss definitely meant something to her, too. But, sometimes parents give a quick kiss on the lips to their little kids to tell them goodnight. Surely it wasn't that kind of kiss. It wasn't to him. Maybe it was for her, though; after all, she did try to peck him on the cheek first.

So, maybe she _wanted _him to leave. _I can't spend the night with Anna in the castle_, Kristoff thought, _as much as I want to._ His thought startled himself. Since when was he taking it that far? There was no way he could spend the night in the castle, so he should stop thinking about it. He tried to turn his mind to other things. There was the option of staying in Arendelle, but he didn't know anyone in town to stay with. He would just have to mosey on out and go sleep at his home in the woods.

He had almost toted his reindeer Sven out the gates when a sharp little finger poked him in the shoulder. "Where are you running off to?"

Kristoff turned to see Elsa peering up at him quizzically. In the distance behind her Anna had fallen on her face for the thousandth time. "I, uh," Kristoff stammered, rubbing the back of his neck in distress, "I'm headed home for the night."

"Oh," Elsa nodded. "Where do you live? Is it far?"

Kristoff shrugged. "Just up in the mountains."

Elsa's eyes widened with concern. "You must be so tired. After all you've been through, I insist you stay with us."

"No, no," Kristoff held up his mitten-laden palms, "I can't."

"I insist!" Elsa persisted.

"I can't; I really can't." Now that the idea was not some mere fantasy, Kristoff realized he was terrified with the idea of sleeping inside.

"I insist!" Elsa's voice grew in volume.

"I can't!" Kristoff shouted. Some people in the crowd of skaters turned to see what the commotion was about.

Elsa, forever a queen of dignity, lowered her voice and brought her face closer to Kristoff. "You must spend the night. Anna will want it."

Kristoff's face was quite close to Elsa's, now. When he heard what she had just said, he couldn't stifle his guffaw. "Whoa, that sentence could be taken the wrong way."

"What?" Elsa shrieked.

"What?" Kristoff shrieked back as if he hadn't said anything. "What about what what?"

Just then, a cute set of strawberry-blonde pigtails clumsily skated between them. "What's going on here?" Anna asked, her right eye squinted in confusion.

"Nothing, dear," Elsa grabbed her shoulders to steady her, "Kristoff was just lamenting to me how much he will miss you when he has to go home tonight."

"No I—," Kristoff began, before Elsa stomped on his foot to shut him up and Anna burst out, "Elsa, no, you can't send him out to the woods! Please, let him stay with us."

Kristoff now needed no foot to silence him. She wanted him to stay?

"Shh, keep your voice down, Anna," Elsa warned. "Do you think that would be appropriate, to have a man from the mountains stay in the castle with an unmarried queen and princess?"

"Elsa, how can you be like this?" Anna tugged at the shoulders of Elsa's gown, pleading, "You just said today that you would never shut the castle up again! And look what you are doing, shutting out the man who saved my life." Anna wiped a tear with the back of her hand.

"Don't be so dramatic, dear," Elsa said, wiping her sister's eyelashes. "If it would mean that much to you, he can stay here tonight."

"Elsa!" Anna squealed. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I will behave myself, I promise."

"Well, in that case," Elsa winked at Kristoff, "he can stay here as long as he would like."

Kristoff gulped. Unfortunately for him, as long as he would like was about never.


	2. Chapter 2

That night after dinner Kristoff was led up to a large, empty guest room in the castle. After the staff cordially welcomed him and left, he removed his hat, coat, and boots, which he had senselessly refused to remove earlier, and sat awkwardly in one of the room's chairs.

The room kept feeling smaller and smaller, like the walls were coming closer. It was way too hot. He had never slept in the heat like this. He had never slept inside at all, at least that he could remember. He was staring unblinking at the impending wall when he heard a brisk knock on the door.

"Kristoff!" rang Anna's sweet voice.

"Yes?" he called from inside the closed door, way more huskily than he had intended.

Anna giggled, feeling butterflies. "May I come in?"

Kristoff tried to make himself look comfortable, sinking down in the chair and spreading his knees farther apart. He ran his fingers through his hair. The last thing he wanted was for Anna to know he was such a wimp, afraid of sleeping inside. "Come in."

Anna opened the door and stepped in, still wearing her daytime dress from earlier and carrying a bundle of cream-colored cloth. She inhaled sharply when she saw him. He had made himself at home, stripping down to linen trousers and a cream-colored thermal shirt, stretched tight across his broad shoulders and wild arms.

He jumped up, rushing over to her in concern. "Is something wrong?"

He had completely misread Anna's expression. "Oh, no," she said, "It's just, I looked all over to find some pajamas that I thought would fit you, but it looks like you've already found some."

"This?" Kristoff gestured to what he was wearing. "This is just the bottom layer under all the clothes I always wear. But you don't need to go to the trouble of finding me pajamas. I always sleep in all my clothes."

Anna's nose squinted up. "Say, when's the last time you washed those?" Kristoff's eyes darted about as he tried to remember. She held up her hands in surrender. "Never mind, I don't want to know. You definitely need these pajamas, then. Here," she said, holding them out for him.

"Thank you," he smiled as he took them from her hands and held them up.

"I actually had a hard time finding some that would be big enough for you," Anna blushed. "These are actually my father's. He was smaller than you but he always liked his pajamas to be way too big."

Jokingly, Kristoff scoffed. "Are you calling me fat?"

"No!" Anna laughed, tossing her hand at him. "You look fine."

"Fine? That's it?" Kristoff teased.

Anna blushed hard. "Just try them on to make sure they fit."

Kristoff looked around. "Where can I go to try them on?"

"I don't care, anywhere," Anna said, distracted. She turned around and crossed her arms, nervous to ask the silly questions that she wanted to. "What do you want me to say anyway? That you're dashingly handsome?"

"Don't start lying now," Kristoff joked, beginning to change since Anna had turned around to give him some privacy.

"I didn't say you were handsome!" Anna objected, back still turned. "I wanted to know what kind of compliments you expect me to give you."

"Sincere ones," he quipped.

Anna gave a smart retort as if by reflex. "What if I don't have any?"

"Actions speak louder than words."

Kristoff could not believe he had said that out loud. "What do you mean?" Anna asked as she spun around to face him.

He was wearing only the fleece fair-isle pajama pants she had given him, and he reflexively covered his bare chest like a girl. "What are you doing?" he demanded. Quickly Kristoff put his hands down, embarrassed for that silly move but still feeling uncomfortably exposed.

Anna screamed when she realized that he had been changing. Did that mean he had been completely naked at one point behind her and all she had to do was turn around? "I had no idea that you were changing!" Anna screamed, so loud Kristoff was afraid someone would come to check on them.

"I thought you turned around so you wouldn't see me!"

"I didn't know you would be so stupid as to take off all your clothes in a room alone with a princess!" She exclaimed. She couldn't admit to herself that that idea excited her more than anything. Her breath was starting to quicken without explanation. She couldn't take her eyes away from his thick, chiseled abs, his thick neck above his exposed collarbone. She suddenly felt angry at Kristoff for making her feel this way, for making her feel about him as she'd never felt before about anyone. "I am leaving."

"Anna, wait, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything," Kristoff began, gently grabbing Anna's arm. Anna ripped her arm away and stormed out the door.

Kristoff sat back in the chair, alone. He wished he could talk to Sven, who was stories below in the castle stables. He kept picturing Anna storming away. How had he ever convinced himself that she felt about him as he did about her? He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, mumbling to himself, as if Sven could hear, "I guess actions do speak louder than words."


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning at breakfast Kristoff looked completely exhausted. His eyes were bloodshot, and his head, propped on his elbow, was in jeopardy of face-planting in his bagel with lox. The other guests at the table were looking at him strangely. He had no idea who most of them were but he was sure that one of them was a butler.

"How did you know where I normally eat breakfast?" Anna walked in, looking so radiant in her yellow dress with a cream bodice. Kristoff was wearing the same thin, navy shirt and grey vest he had been wearing early yesterday, before he put on all his winter clothes again for ease of carrying them inside. He hadn't realized how warm it would be inside during the night.

As Kristoff studied the tiny red and green roses from his place at the end of the table, it did not occur to him that he was staring unblinkingly at Anna's chest. All this looking was making her self-conscious. Did he think it abnormal to get so dressed up for breakfast? The staff was used to her eating with an old pink nightgown and crazy bed hair, but this morning she had wanted Kristoff to think that she _always _looked fabulous. He was still staring at her! She cleared her throat. "Excuse me, how did you know where I normally eat?"

Kristoff's open mouth drooped lazily on his palm. "Doesn't everybody eat here?" he asked, surveying the entertained people up and down the log table.

"Actually, the royal breakfast table is in the other room. Elsa has only recently started eating with me, and since you are a guest I think we should dine with her."

"Yes," put in the butler, who could just feel Kristoff's stench wafting toward his food, "guests are invited to dine with the queen."

Kristoff stood, running his fingers through his hair as if it were a difficult task. Anna turned up her nose; perhaps it was. How often did he wash his hair? "Come, Kristoff, it's this way," Anna took his hand, smiling. She hoped he wasn't angry with her for running off yesterday. Why did she act so stupid when she was nervous? He would never want to stay over again if she kept acting like this. Studying his exhausted expression behind her, she wondered if he was too tired to even remember last night.

They sat at the long, dark wooden table with Elsa at one end and Anna at another. He was awkwardly between them on one side, off center to make him closer to Anna. "Good morning, you two," Elsa greeted them as they sat down.

"Good morning," both replied as a new, untouched bagel was placed in front of Kristoff. He stared at it, unsure if he was prepared to try to eat this again. What made cream cheese creamy? What about good, old-fashioned, ordinary cheese? Didn't they have any carrots in this castle?

"May I be excused?" he asked exhaustedly, planning his quest out to the stables to share some of Sven's carrots and relay the fact that Anna hated him after only one night.

"Certainly, Kristoff," Elsa started, surprised, "Is everything alright for you?"

Kristoff rubbed his sleepy eyelids. "Of course."

"Will you be back?" Anna burst, unable to contain herself. "I'll come with you!"

"No, Anna, stay," Elsa kindly commanded, "I need to have a word with you."

Anna worriedly watched Kristoff leave the room, certain that he was too angry to even sit at the same table as her. "You don't need to run after him, dear," Elsa added soothingly, "Sometimes people just need to be left alone."

Anna puffed. "I _never_ want to be left alone."

Elsa adjusted the embroidered napkin on her lap. "Well, that's fine and good, because I have some things I need to discuss with you."

Anna gulped, suddenly faced with new problems. She was sure Elsa knew she had been in Kristoff's room for too long last night. Maybe she even heard Anna scream that he was changing...

"We have some visitors coming in three days, and I need you to help me prepare for it," said Elsa.

"Visitors?" Anna had not expected this. "Who?"

"You're not going to like this."

"Who are they?"

"You must promise you won't be angry."

Anna had no patience for these waiting games. "Elsa, tell me!"

"You must promise! If you can't control your temper then I can't control mine!"

"Elsa!"

"Fine!" the queen burst out. "It is the Princes of the Southern Isles, Hans's older brothers."

"What?" Anna exploded, jumping to her feet. "Why? Why would you ever bring them here?"

"I can't help it!" Elsa's volume grew. "They sent me a letter, asking to make peace."

Anna's fury grew as well. "How can you make peace with them? Hans tried to kill you! How can you ever trust them?"

"I don't trust them! But I am a diplomat, Anna," Elsa shook her head, "The Southern Isles are our greatest ally in trade. Arendelle cannot afford to lose them. Anyway, they sound almost as furious about their youngest brother's behavior as we are. They wrote that they have him in solitary confinement, and he has lost all of his princely duties. Hans rejected his homeland and put their lives at risk. What if we decided to wage war with them after this? Hans didn't think about those possibilities. Hans's plot hurt his family, too. We might have more in common with his brothers than we think."

Anna blew a tuft of hair out of her eyes. "Fine, I suppose you are right. If we have an open kingdom we have to be open to everyone."

"Thank you for understanding, Anna," the queen went back to eating her bagel. "Kristoff's etiquette lessons will begin tomorrow."

Anna nearly spit out her milk. "Wait, what?"


	4. Chapter 4

****I am so surprised and happy to see the positive feedback this silly little story is receiving! PLEASE, if you are enjoying the story, let me know what you like about it or what you would have written differently with a quick review. Not only will I be sure to keep on doing whatever you guys like, but I am a terribly unmotivated quitter, so feedback makes a big difference in how often I motivate myself to update.**

**Most importantly, thank you for reading. **

**Xx Hayley**

Anna hadn't been able to get away from her bodice fittings and letter-answering to look for Kristoff until nightfall, and now she couldn't seem to find him. He wasn't in his room when she checked. He had lied to her; she knew it. He had left forever.

She raced to the stables, checking if Sven was still in his stall. Kristoff would never leave without him. _He loves a reindeer more than me,_ Anna thought. _Figures._

As she approached, she saw the empty stall. _Ah, ha! Caught red handed. That dirty traitor left without telling me._ Just as she was about to embark in an ironic victory dance for being right, Sven stood up, munching on a carrot.

"Sven?" she questioned the silent animal. "Then where is Kristoff?"

He made a motion that looked like shrugging his shoulders, a motion she was not aware that reindeer could make, and turned away from her. The nerve of that reindeer, sometimes.

Anna had wandered back into the courtyard, when she heard a familiar, perky voice. "Hey, Anna, watcha doin'?"

"Hey, Olaf," Anna smiled, "you haven't seen Kristoff anywhere, have you?"

"Let's see," Olaf said, holding his head in his hands and swirling it at every angle like an owl. "There!" he exclaimed, "up by the tower!"

Anna craned her neck to see. Far above them, Kristoff was standing on the balcony of the stained-glass tower, looking toward the mountains. From where she stood, his arms hanging off the balcony were only little specks. "He better not hang his arms off like that," Olaf remarked, "because if he drops them he's going to have to walk an awful long way down!"

"Olaf, thank you!" Anna applauded, then raced to the stairs. She had to talk to Kristoff before he decided to leave for good.

"Kristoff!" she panted as she fell out the stained-glass doors, exquisitely painted with a pattern that continued the circumference of the tower, just as the balcony did. The view was marvelous, the high peaked mountains still frosty under the setting summer sun. The beauty of it gave Anna mixed feeling. The last time she was up there, she had been falling in what she thought was love with Prince Hans.

"Anna!" Kristoff exclaimed, helping her to her feet. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she assured, still breathing hard, "but you could've picked a smaller tower to hide up in."

He sheepishly grinned and scratched the back of his head. "Listen, Anna, about yesterday—."

She touched his shoulder. "No, don't talk about it. I, well, I—," Anna began.

"Anna, no, I—,"Kristoff joined in, adding to the jumble of mumbled nonsense.

"I'm sorry!" they both cut in at the same time, both trying to be heard over the other. "You are?" they asked, in unison, again.

"That's a relief," Anna said, shifting one of her braids behind her shoulder. "I couldn't find you in the castle all day. I thought you were avoiding me."

Kristoff shrugged, wanting to tell Anna how uncomfortable he was staying indoors but unsure what she would think. "You're hesitating!" Olaf shouted from the courtyard far below.

"Oh wow," Anna giggled. "Who knew he could hear us?"

"That's incredible," mused Kristoff, "especially since he doesn't have ears."

"I heard that!" they heard Olaf shout.

Anna lowered her voice even more. "Yikes. I think we should go inside and talk."

"No!" Kristoff exclaimed far too emphatically. He composed himself by clearing his throat. "Outside is fine."

"I insist!"

Kristoff gritted his teeth in mock frustration. "What is it with you girls and insisting?"

Anna raised an eyebrow. "Why not? He can hear us. I feel uncomfortable telling you what I had planned to."

That sparked Kristoff's interest, but not enough to want to go inside. "I love the view from here. Nice, fresh air."

"Don't try to change the subject. Do you not like the castle or something?"

"No!" Kristoff objected. He waved his palms in front of him and shook his head, as if the idea had never occurred to him. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he didn't appreciate the hospitality.

Anna paused, considering. "Are you afraid of being inside?"

"He's claustrophobic!" shouted Olaf, still a hundred feet away.

"Yeah!" Anna liked phrasing it that way. "Are you claustrophobic?"

Kristoff waited for just a second. How could he possibly say yes to that? But he couldn't lie to her.

"You hesitated!" was heard echoing from a hundred feet below.

"Olaf's right," Anna smirked, "you hesitated."

Kristoff crossed his arms and turned for the door. "Fine, we're going inside."

"So, why are you afraid of being inside?" Anna asked as they walked down the tower's spiral staircase. She was holding Kristoff's hand, guiding him to his room so they could talk.

"Would you keep your voice down?" whispered Kristoff. "It's embarrassing."

"Okay, sorry," Anna whispered back. "But what scares you about it?"

Kristoff spoke quieter still. "Well, it just looks like the walls keep getting closer."

Anna glanced back at him, almost as concerned for his sanity as when he was talking to boulders in the Valley of the Living Rocks. "They aren't, at all. They've been in the same place my whole life." He simply shrugged. "You really are claustrophobic. It's like you've never lived inside before."

"I haven't," he admitted. Before Anna had time to respond to this, they reached the door to Kristoff's guestroom. "Can we talk in a different room?" he ventured.

Anna considered forcing him to face his fears, but then she thought he might at least enjoy a window. "I know just the place," she smiled, taking his hand again.

When Kristoff stepped over the threshold into a room on the floor above, the dainty pink bed and the various knick knacks on all the shelves gave it away. This was definitely Anna's bedroom. "Do you like it?" she chirped. "I thought if you need some fresh air, we could step out on the balcony."

"I do," he squeezed her hand, speaking honestly. The room was much larger than the guest room, with vaulted ceiling and an entire wall of windows that led out to the balcony.

Anna beamed at him as he hugged her. "If you're still scared, I can ask the staff to set up a room for you, next to mine, with plenty of windows. It even has an adjoining balcony."

Kristoff was too touched by her kindness to think about the fact that he'd be sleeping so close to this beautiful girl, even for a second. He tilted up her chin and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "Thank you."

Anna giggled oddly. "What is it?" Kristoff asked, beginning to laugh at her stifled giggling.

Anna hated to ruin the moment, but it was such ironic timing that she couldn't resist. "Guess what begins tomorrow?"

"I don't know, what?"

Anna jumped to her feet and bounced on the bed, proclaiming, "Your etiquette lessons!"

At that exact moment, Anna bounded a bit too roughly, causing Kristoff to fall off the tall bed right onto his face.


	5. Chapter 5

"What is it that you wish to discuss?" Elsa asked the governing council as she sat in her throne. The council was seated in a semi-circle below her thrown's raised platform, all facing her as they always did, and she was always the last to arrive, just as her father had always been before her.

"As you know, we are anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Princes of the Southern Isles," stood the Head Treasurer, who never failed to emerge as the spokesperson of the group. Generally, none of them ever brought anything to her attention alone; they always consulted with the others and approached her as a group. It has irritated Elsa at first, but she had come to terms with the fact that they would never change the precedent that her father had set. "And as you have made very clear, they are not to be trusted. But," he paused, "we have reason to believe that many of them desire your courtship, hoping to seal the bond that was broken by their brother between the kingdoms through marriage."

Elsa should have seen this coming, but when she heard this she was totally blindsided. "I will never accept the hand of the brother of Hans. He will only share Hans's goals, to align Arendelle's interests with the Southern Isles'."

"We had expected as much," continued the treasurer. Elsa gave an inner eye-roll. Of course they would discuss how she might react before they even gave her a chance.

"And we respect your wishes," the advisor on foreign affairs cut in. Elsa crossed her arms. They were finishing each others' sentences now? Had they rehearsed this spiel? "So I took the liberty of inviting all the most eligible royal bachelors to stay with us as well. If you have plenty suitors already when they arrive, the Princes of the Southern Isles can't possibly take it as you rejecting the allegiance if you reject their courtship."

"So you want me pretend that I already have a suitor?" Before Elsa had time to say any more, a parade of men came strolling down the center isle toward her thrown. The first was young, blonde, and hesitated when he approached her.

"Jacques, Duke of Caranelle," his page announced.

"Your majesty," he said, deeply bowing, gazing at the floor.

"It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance," Elsa cordially replied. The treasurer gestured furiously to his own hand, reminding Elsa that she should offer hers for a shake. She did as she was told, wondering why this duke couldn't offer his hand first, like a gentleman. She was the queen, but she was still a person.

His grip was strong, like he was proving his confidence. She was thoroughly unimpressed. The next three were presented to her with little consequence: one was way too old, one was a crown prince of a place she'd never been, and one had no obvious flaws but was utterly unmemorable.

The last of them came forward. Elsa peered at him; his face struck no memory but his walk was vaguely familiar. His name was called, "Marcus, Duke of Westley."

Elsa's jaw would've dropped if being composed at this moment was not her top priority. She knew a Marcus. She knew a Marcus who was entirely like him but who she had never thought to be handsome like this. She had gone to summer finishing studies near Westley, where she tried everything from painting to bird watching. He always made fun of her as a child, saying she couldn't tell a robin from a cardinal and other insults of the like. She hadn't seen him since the last summer she'd gone, before the accident that almost killed Anna. But, when she knew him, she didn't think he'd been a duke. She hoped she wasn't mistaken that this was the same person.

He bowed deeply, saying nothing, never breaking her gaze. It made her uncomfortable enough to look away, and she could swear that he smirked. "It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance," she told him, just as she had the others.

"The pleasure is all mine," he replied, taking her hand in his. "May I?" he asked, as if he were about to kiss the back of her hand.

Before she had time to nod, he swiftly removed her glove and kissed the back of her hand. "No!" she cried in unison with the entire council, all jumping out of their seats as if to head for the queen.

He drew away, laying her glove in her bare palm. His lips were completely iced over and pale blue, illuminating the prominent bones in his face. He winked at her seconds before the guards reached him, as if he knew she would turn him to ice. "I can let myself out," he told them, not unkindly but as a simple statement, walking away with his page close behind.

"Not so fast!" the treasurer stepped in his path. "That is no way to treat the Queen of Arendelle."

The duke effortlessly walked around him. "You told me to court her," he proclaimed over his shoulder, loudly enough for everyone to hear, "This is me courting her."

With that, the Duke of Westley was gone.

Elsa didn't put her glove back on.


	6. Chapter 6

****Do you know what I love? When people who don't have an account leave a guest review. I can see how many independent viewers read this story every day; I know you people with no account are out there! I have been so appreciating all the reviews. S/O to "Real Norwegian." You have completed my goal of having a reader from every country in Scandinavia. Thank you!**

**As for updating, I will TRY to update every day. Next week is finals so probably no updates at all that week, or very few. Another chapter should be coming later tonight; I got set back because my campus's Wi-Fi booted me out TWICE and I had to re-type this chapter both times. I have since decided to only type chapters in word.**

**I always read all the reviews and I try to reply to the detailed ones. Thank you so much for all the help and support. Another S/O, to Crystallae1321 for making a suggestion that I actually acted upon.**

**Anyways, enjoy! If you were hoping Elsa might get with one of Hans's Brothers, don't worry; hang in there, keep reading…**

**Xx Hayley**

Elsewhere in the castle, Kristoff was busy becoming a gentleman, or, perhaps, a gentle-mammoth.

Though it was past lunch, he, Anna, and Olaf were sitting around the royal breakfast table with a small, pokey man called Pippingsly, Kristoff's supposed etiquette teacher. Kristoff doubted that was a full-time job, or his real name.

"Are you seeing this guy? That's not even sitting up straight. He's slouching the other way," Kristoff nudged Anna, gesturing at Pippingsly, whose back seemed to be arched at a right angle as he modeled polite table manners.

"Let me try!" Olaf exclaimed, all smiles until his head fell completely upside down while still attached to his abdomen. He pointed out the obvious in monotone, "My head is touching my butt."

"He's not going to be at the welcoming banquet for Elsa's suitors, is he?" Pippingsly referred to Olaf, as if it were the most repulsive idea he'd ever considered.

"For your information," Anna huffed, "he can't make it because he is planning to spend a day at the lake with his good friend Sven."

Pippingsly did not look impressed. "Very well, back to lessons. Show me how you will behave at the banquet, Kristoff. Do exactly as I did. Feel the elegance."

Kristoff rolled his eyes and did as instructed. Drawing upon the time last year when he threw his back out harvesting ice, he mimicked Pippingsly perfectly. However, he did not feel "elegant." Pippingsly had insisted on styling him the way he would be styled at the banquet, which entailed teasing his hair back into an enormous pompadour and choking him into a cravat.

After seeing the a snooty stuffed shirt staring back at him in the mirror, Kristoff had asked Pippingsly why this was even in the least bit necessary. Pippingsly had laughed, "Because, what's the point of being able to balance a book on your head if you can't keep your hair up, darling?"

Kristoff had immediately lost his temper, jumping to his feet and unintentionally towering over the miniscule guy. "If a grown man ever calls me darling again—."

"Kristoff!" Anna had scolded him, placing her hands soothingly on his forearms.

Kristoff has since removed his cravat and tried his best to flatten his mountain of hair, leaving it with the appearance of a deflated soufflé. The style did assist him in balancing a book on his head while walking. This skill, he repeatedly grumbled, would never be useful for even a second of his life.

At the moment, Pippingsly was back to reprimanding Kristoff's less than perfect dining habits. "Don't hold your fork that way! A utensil must be softly balanced between the fingers, not man-handled like a wrench. Now that you are eating with fine silver it would be a shame to damage it."

Kristoff shot daggers at him with his eyes. He would so love to see how Pippingsly would fare at ice harvesting lessons! How did he know Kristoff had never dined with fine silver? Olaf had an uncomfortable look on his face as he twiddled his branches.

Next up was dancing. Kristoff was only required to learn the most basic dance. He had to learn it to accompany Anna for the opening dance of the upcoming ball, where Elsa and Anna would be required to open the floor with their partners.

After the first try, he was asked to remove his massive summer shoes. When he took Anna's hand again and placed the other on her waist, he felt he could do this. She looked so beautiful, her pixie nose inches from his. He couldn't imagine a more perfect moment until he stepped on her foot again. And again. And again. And then he accidentally spun her out and forgot to let go of her hand, making her fear that her arm would fly out of the socket like Olaf's. Then, he stepped on her foot again. Olaf volunteered as a replacement, but his flurry kept hitting Kristoff in the face.

Eventually, Pippingsly had to step in as Anna's replacement, which was a real joy.

A few hours, a few sore elbows, and on frostbitten nose later, Pippingsly declared the lessons to be over for the day. "I suppose you can come with me now, so I can fix your appearance for the banquet tonight."

"Actually, Pippingsly," Anna cut in just before Kristoff gave up on life, "we already have other plans."

"We do?" Kristoff asked, shooting Anna a sidelong glance as he followed her out of the castle. Kristoff stopped for a moment, feeling the breeze through his thin linen tunic. He looked to the square, where he would sell his wares during the summer months.

"Kristoff, are you coming?" Anna called before having a second thought. "Wait! Actually, close your eyes. I want this to be a surprise."

Whatever was happening was already surprising Kristoff. He patiently closed his eyes. To his shock, he felt her untying the burgundy sash he used as a belt.

Kristoff was shocked. They were in public, with townspeople all around. "Anna, what are you—?"

"Shh," she pressed a finger to his lips. "Keep your eyes closed." He could feel her tie the belt around his head as a blindfold. When he opened his eyes, the light shining through the cloth had turned his world to nothing but the color red.

Anna took his hand and led him onward. Her hand felt so delicate on his.

"Where are we going?" Kristoff asked after they had been trekking uphill for a while, never letting go of her hand.

"You will see," Anna said, letting her smile be heard in her voice. "I thought you had a hard day, so maybe we could let off some steam."

Before he could ask what letting off some steam meant, Anna had ripped off Kristoff's blindfold. "Surprise!"


	7. Chapter 7

****MY APOLOGIES for the cliff-hanger. Yesterday, I had realized that I had a huge exam today that I hadn't studied for at all, so I just uploaded what I had at a reasonable stopping point. Without further ado…the continuation of chapter six.**

**Xx Hayley **

"Surprise!"

They were standing in front of Oaken's Trading Post. Kristoff had no clue what to buy. "Do you need some new boots?"

"No, silly!" Anna swatted his shoulder. "This is where we first met. I thought since you had such a terrible day, I could surprise you with something fun."

Kristoff eyed the ram-shackle log cabin, the so-called trading post. "What did you have in mind?"

"Wait here," Anna said, darting into the store. Kristoff didn't have to be told twice; his last encounter with Oaken, the jolly price-gouger who ran the place, didn't end well.

Anna emerged minutes later holding two white towels. Kristoff was immediately concerned. "Ever since we came the first time I have been wanting to try the sauna, so today we can try it! You can go change into your robe in the shed over there, and meet me in the sauna. Oaken said this one is for you," Anna said, handing him one. Kristoff eyed the small piece of fabric warily, but headed to the shed nonetheless. He was not going to pass this up.

After he had already removed his clothes, he held up the supposed robe. It didn't even have any sleeves or a sash! It was nothing but a large towel, only long enough to stop below his knees if he tied it at the waist. "Oaken!" he screamed menacingly at the empty room.

He considered marching up to the counter and giving Oaken a piece of his mind, but, because he did not want to be tossed out of the store wearing only a towel, he begrudgingly put on his tunic and headed for the sauna.

"Oo-hoo!" Oaken greeted as the mountain man walked into the shop. After shooting Oaken the evil eye, Kristoff quickly shut the sauna door behind him. Anna was sitting there, hair on top of her head in a messy bun. A few auburn locks had freed themselves from the knot, framing her heart-shaped face. Anna had been given a gigantic robe that covered her from head to toe, taking away the only possibility that Kristoff's exposition might at least have a silver lining.

Anna giggled when she saw him. "What are you wearing?"

Kristoff took a seat across from her. "Sauna clothes."

"You are still wearing your tunic," Anna kept giggling, "That is so gross! It's going to be all sweaty all the way home."

Kristoff was unamused, suddenly praying that no one wandered into the sled and stole his pants. "What do you expect me to do? He didn't give me a real robe like yours."

"That's because you're a guy! You don't need your chest covered."

Kristoff wasn't having it. "No way."

"Chicken," Anna teased. "I didn't know you were such a prude."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Anna wasn't buying it. She shook her head and sunk back into the wooden bench that wrapped around the walls. She had never been in a sauna before. She felt her eyes start to close. She hoped that wasn't weird; it was just so relaxing. "Kristoff?" she asked dreamily, the top of her head now resting on the wall.

She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Yes?"

"I have been wanting to ask you something."

"Go on…" He was definitely still smirking. She rolled her eyes with the eyelids still shut. Could he see that?

"How did you end up being adopted by trolls?" she asked. This had been bugging her since the day she met them. "Do you have a human family?"

"It's hard to explain," he began.

"Go on…" she mimicked.

Kristoff hesitated for a moment, before letting out a long, slow breath. Anna hoped she wasn't upsetting him. "I don't know where my family is."

"You don't?" Anna exclaimed, sitting up. As she opened her eyes she saw that he had actually listened to her; he was now wearing nothing but a towel. His forearms were rested on his knees, causing a flex in the massive muscles all the way down his arms. The steam had smoothed the silly hairstyle he had had earlier into a wavy, messy style that kept smoothing back with his hand.

This was not the right conversation for Anna to be having thoughts like this, but she could not look away. She decided to resume leaning back with her eyes closed. She wondered if Kristoff knew the pictures that were running through her head. She would have to distract him. Plus, she deeply wanted to know. "Have you ever tried to find them?"

"No, not since I was a young kid. When I found my new family, I didn't feel like looking anymore."

Anna shifted position to rest her cheeks on her knuckles and her knuckles on her knees. She willed herself not to tear up. "So you met your real parents before? I understand if you don't want to talk about it anymore."

"It's fine; I don't mind telling you. I vaguely remember living with my parents when I was small. My father was an ice harvester, always taking me out with him. He travelled all around with me, harvesting. We would be away from home for what I think was probably weeks, but kids don't really have a good grasp on time so I'm not sure. But however long, I remember sometimes telling him that I missed my mother." Anna was tearing up now. She tried to squint her eyes but it wasn't helping. Kristoff continued, "One day when we went out, there was a huge avalanche and we got separated. Thankfully in the avalanche I didn't lose Sven. He was just a tiny fawn. We were way too far from the cabin where we lived for me to ever find it, though I don't know how many times I tried. I kept going back to the same lakes where I went with my dad, and a day or two after the avalance I found some ice harvesters who I recognized. The harvesters trained me for a while, a few months I'd say, and always helped me look for my father. When they never found him, I guess they decided he was dead and there was no point in helping me. I went back to the lake one day for work, and they were gone. I went back every day, and didn't see them again until a year later, after I'd already been adopted by my new family. Of course by then I had decided I preferred to work alone."

Anna couldn't take it anymore. She darted over to Kristoff and sat in his lap, both knees off to one side like a child. She hugged him tightly around the neck, bawling over his neck. "I can't believe you had to go through all that!" she sobbed, "I," inhale, "am so," inhale, "sorry-y-y-y!"

"Anna," Kristoff smiled, rubbing the top of her arms, "it's okay. I am a grown man. I have a family. Most importantly, Sven has always been there for me. He has always kept me company."

That was not helping Anna's crying. She messily wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "How old were you when this happened?"

Kristoff looked up out the corner of his eye. "I'm not one hundred percent, but I'm pretty sure I was five."

Anna narrowed her eyes, contemplating. "Wait, you already had Sven? How old are you now?"

"Twenty, how old are you?"

There was no way Anna was going to say what she was thinking, but didn't male reindeer live, like, fifteen years max? And why didn't she ask how old he was yet? Honestly, she was expecting closer to thirty. Robust people look old. "Eighteen."

Kristoff donned the same narrow-eyed look that Anna had earlier. "How old is Elsa?"

"Twenty-one."

"Huh," Kristoff remarked, "I was expecting older."

"Funny you should say that," Anna chuckled, thinking back to her estimate on him. Then she had a serious thought, and started to tear up again. "I just realized something; what if your mom is still out there, looking for you?"

"I tried for so long," Kristoff lamented. "It's useless."

"But it'll be different now!" Anna nodded her head as if asking him to agree. "You have me now. I can issue a royal decree. We can find her!"

Kristoff physically felt something in his heart. "You would do that for me?"

"Of course," Anna smiled, and, right then, he kissed her.

It was different than the first time, even newer and more meaningful. She kissed him back hard, pressing into his bare chest with her palm. His fingers messed up her already messy hair as he leaned deeper in, causing her hair to fall all around her robe-laden shoulders.

No one had expected that a sauna could get fogged up, including the owner. Oaken poked his head in the door, unsmiling but sticking to his catch-phrase: "Oo-hoo!"


	8. Chapter 8

*****I am so sorry for not updating in so long. But there's three-scratch that-FOUR good news items:**

**1. I got an A on all my finals! I missed writing but I guess it was worth it.**

**2. Of 350 followers, EVERYONE was super supportive that I have a real life and can't write all the time. I love you guys! **

**3. I should be updating almost everyday for the next month or so at least, until I finish the story!**

**4. David Kawena finally finished his Kristoff artwork...go to deviantart if you haven't seen it...**

**Xx Hayley**

Elsa counted the dongs from the castle's clock tower. It was eight o'clock, the scheduled start of the welcoming banquet for Arendelle's noble guests. Anna and Kristoff were still nowhere to be found. She hesitated to wait for them any longer and displease the royals, but she was always the last to arrive. Fitting, that the first time breaking her precedent would be in front of such a judgmental, smirking, unofficial commoner as Marcus.

On top of the opinion that she had no doubt would be blatantly painted on his perfectly-chiseled face, she had wanted to warn Anna about him, so she wouldn't say anything…uncomfortable.

Elsa sighed, took a step back, and signaled the guards to open the grand doors for her. If she couldn't be the last to arrive, at least she could make an entrance.

She walked, shoulders back, in her fine velveteen, teal dress. Her intricately braided hairstyle formed a halo above her bangs, then wrapped around to form a high bun that took the distinct shape of a rose. While the other noblemen had refined expressions of greeting upon seeing her, Marcus's primal interest manifested on every inch of his face, his eyebrows permanently raised an inch higher on his brow.

_Who's smirking now? _Elsa thought as she took her place at the head of the table, marked by a high, cushioned back that extended far above her head. The seat opposite her was empty, reserved for Anna if she would ever arrive.

"Will your sister be joining us, Anna?" the Crown Prince of Champlaine immediately asked.

"Yes, she will be joining us a bit later," Elsa answered, signaling the servants to bring in the first course. "Do you have any news from Champlaine? I haven't heard much lately."

"No, not much of significance," was the reply, equal in flavor to the next thirty minutes of conversation that followed. The suitors all seemed to have already drafted the most dull questions possible to ask Elsa about the kingdom, except of course for the silent Marcus. The more exasperatingly bored that Elsa felt, the more Marcus's smug, wily grin seemed to grow.

"Elsa," Marcus met her eyes with his, the color of emeralds. When he spoke, his sparkling white teeth shown in brilliant contrast with his minimal black beard and glossy hair. Elsa realized, only after she heard gasps and mumbles, how improper it was for him to call the queen by her given name. Before the others' reactions, she hadn't thought anything of it; Marcus certainly didn't take notice. There was a tone of amusement in his voice, as if he found ironic humor behind his mindless conversation. "How has the little princess been lately? Are you still building her snowmen?"

It was definitely him. It was definitely the Marcus she had anxiously waited to see every summer as a very young girl. "Actually, Lord Westley," Elsa cleared her throat, discrediting his rudeness with her formality, "the one I used to build her never melted. It's a humorous coincidence that you should ask." She was surprised at herself for bringing up Olaf. She had hoped to not bring up her powers whatsoever while her suitors were around; she knew it would scare them off.

"I'm sure she loves that," Marcus said, "It must have been incredible growing up with a magic sister." All eyes were on Elsa now, searching, as if she were a loose cannon about to explode and spear him with a lance of ice. Why did he have to embarrass her so much? It was definitely no accident; she hated this man.

Just then, the side doors opened and in walked Kristoff and Anna. Elsa could have died. She might as well lay her head down on the table right now and surrender any chance at finding a suitor. Not only were they walking in, together, for some reason both the exact same degree of late, but their appearance looked wretched. Anna's powders and blushes looked like they had been put on in about five seconds. Kristoff's hair was even wavier than his typical loose waves, and the braid that ran around Anna's crown would surely fall at any second.

Marcus stifled a guffaw before jumping up to greet the two. "Your Highness," he shook Anna's hand, "it's so nice to finally meet you." Anna blushed, so thankful that she and Kristoff had taken their time cleaning themselves up before coming to dinner. Nobody suspected a thing. Kristoff's clothing looked kempt, a navy suit with a waist-coat over a plain white shirt. Anna's dress was the yellow frock that Elsa had ordered for her as a surprise. Anna smiled at her sister and raised her eyebrows, silently queuing a conversation about him later. "We were just talking about you. I was wondering if your sister was still making ice sculptures for you, but I see you're much more of a young lady than I'd realized."

"Nice to meet you," Anna trailed off, blushing harder, waiting for him to introduce himself.

"Forgive me," Marcus tipped his head, still holding onto her hand. "The Duke of Westley, at your service. You can call me Marcus."

Anna giggled. "Nice to meet you, Marcus. And have you met Kristoff?"

Kristoff extended his hand awkwardly. "Kristoff Bjorgman," he simply stated as he shook the duke's hand. He had no idea where Westley was, or who any of the other people at the table were, but there was no way in hell he was saying he was the Royal Ice Harvester. That's not even a real thing. He would rather reveal his name only, and let himself remain a broad-shouldered man of mystery. He pictured introducing himself that way. _Kristoff Bjorgman, broad-shouldered man of mystery, at your service._

"Oh, I see," Marcus said, as if he were trying to guide Kristoff into saying the right thing, "What relation do you have to the princess?"

Elsa really thought she might spear him now. Did he have to say _relation_? Really? She feigned disinterest and kept cutting her third course into tiny bits. "He rescued her. His heroic deeds are well-known throughout the kingdom."

"Then he should be knighted," Marcus said, as if presenting a challange, focused only on Elsa now.

"Perhaps he will be," Elsa quipped, and with that all the other guests were up and shaking his hand, apparently disinterested in Kristoff until he was in line for a title.

Marcus took this as a chance to steal a word with the queen, unmoving at the head of the table. He propped his elbow on the tall back of her chair, leaning down slightly to speak. "Are you enjoying yourself, my dear?"

"Really," she scoffed, quietly enough for only him to hear, "you cannot keep addressing me this way."

"Forgive me," he said, staring into her eyes. She did not look away, not even flinch. "We have so much catching up to do. Would it be too much to ask to request a word with you alone after dinner?"

Yes, yes, yes, and YES. Elsa could not believe this man. Of course that would be too much to ask and entirely improper. Was he raised in a stable?

But she did so desperately want to know what he would say to her. "Is there anything in particular that you would wish to discuss?"

"Nothing in particular," Marcus shrugged, "I had planned to speak with you at dinner tonight, but with the riveting company you have, I can't seem to get a word in."

Elsa almost laughed. Almost. She felt her heart beating like an icepick against her chest. She hated this guy. She wanted to push her chair back sharply so her would lose his balance and fall, but something in her also didn't want him to go just yet. The others were dispersing now; she had to answer quickly before his odd stance caused suspicion. She sighed, "Fine, for a moment, I will permit it."

As Anna took her place opposite Elsa, she couldn't get what the Duke had said out of her head. Marcus. Wasn't that the one who Elsa had gushed about when they were little girls? How would he have known about Elsa's powers? Had Elsa been hiding her powers this whole time from her own sister, but not from everyone else?

Anna was going to find out tonight. She couldn't wait for this dinner to end.


	9. Chapter 9

After Elsa bid all the dinner guests adieu, she was not about to wait around for Marcus. If he meant to have a word with her, he would be the one chasing.

When she reached the top of the staircase that led to her room, she found that he had beat her to it. There he stood, dashing in his fine black waistcoat and trousers, lounging against the window seat opposite her bedroom door.

She crossed her arms, refusing to move an inch once she saw him."Marcus."

He smirked and stepped towards her. "Elsa."

"I told you to stop calling me that," she scowled.

He was close enough now for Elsa to feel their height difference. "I thought that was only in public."

Elsa's hands became fists at her sides. "It was in every situation. We shouldn't even be in private. What kind of woman do you think I am?"

"A lovely one," Marcus murmured, bringing her hand up to his eye-level. "I see you're not wearing your gloves today."

"No, I am not," Elsa responded indignantly, trying to pull her hand down. "I am in complete control of my," she searched for the word, "condition. I wear them for the benefit of the council. It makes them nervous."

Marcus kept her hand to himself, spreading it out on his palm. His gaze was as if he were holding a flower. "You mean your gift."

"I beg your pardon?" Elsa stood up straighter.

"You are in complete control of your _gift_," Marcus looked into her eyes. "You're not the monster they say you are." He raised her hand even closer, never breaking contact her icy blue eyes, as if he were about to press an impossibly slow kiss to her palm. Elsa sucked in her breath. He had her completely backed against the wall now. She shouldn't let this happen but she-.

"Elsa!" a voice called from the bottom of the stairs. It was Anna. Elsa panicked, the fear of Anna walking in on this, and raw emotion she felt for Marcus, overwhelming her. Ice shot through her veins, freezing Marcus's hand completely all the way down his arm, frozen in a position of holding her hand.

What a fool she had been to think she could have a suitor, to think she could ever have a man. She couldn't breathe, couldn't blink, unable to draw her eyes away from what she had done. What she saw was astonishing. The ice melted impossibly quickly, instantaneously, just as she felt a shock to her arm, the kind she felt when walking along a rug in wool stockings.

Elsa and Marcus had just the discovered the panicked looks in each others' eyes when Anna emerged at the end of the hallway. "What is going on here?"

Elsa pushed back, immediately, hurrying to her sister. "Nothing, sweetie," Elsa assured, grasping Anna by the shoulders. "Lord Westley, leave us alone, please. I need to have a word with my sister." Marcus bristled at Elsa speaking to him so formally, but obeyed her command and turned on his heels to leave.

"No, I don't want him to leave!" Anna exclaimed. "I want him to stay."

Elsa took a step back. "Anna, what are you talking about? Why?"

"I want to know the truth!" Anna was even louder, not backing down, gesturing wildly to Marcus. "He seems like an honest guy. Maybe he will tell me if you are lying!"

"Lying about what?" Elsa was exasperated. She turned to the duke. "Marcus, please, just go. I need to deal with her."

Anna did her best to block the path, speaking directly to Marcus now. "No, I want to you stay. I want to know what you meant when you said Elsa used to make things for me out of ice." Marcus was dumbstruck, with no idea what to say. He couldn't get involved in a fight between sisters. When he said nothing, Anna continued. "And what is going on between the two of you, Elsa? Are you in a relationship and not even telling me? I tell you everything between me and Kristoff, and you just-."

"You tell me everything?" Elsa burst. "Why were you so late to dinner, then, completely embarrassing us in front of everyone? You don't have a clue what men are after, and you are going to get yourself compromised-."

"Princess," Marcus interrupted, unable to hear anymore of this, "when we were young your sister would tell me stories of the little sister she loved so much and played with all the time and missed every summer. That was all. It was nothing. I shouldn't have said anything about it at dinner."

Anna seemed calmer now. "And she told you that she built me things out of snow?"

"Yes, that was all," Marcus nodded, hoping to escape the hall as soon as possible, "just girly things like castles, and snowmen."

"So you told him you had powers and you didn't tell me? Your own sister?" Anna's aqua eyes were on the verge of tears.

"No, Anna, it wasn't like that. I told him before," Elsa sighed, stopping mid-sentence. "Anna, there was an accident, and after it Father said I couldn't tell anyone."

"Father knew?" Anna cried. "Father didn't want to tell me?"

"Yes, of course Father knew," Elsa said before checking her tone, wanting to comfort her little sister, "Father had a good reason for not telling you, Anna. He wanted to protect you, but it's a family matter and if you will just let me explain in private, it will all make sense."

Anna wasn't having it. She raced down the stairs, needing solitude from her unbelievably cold elder sister.

"Anna, wait! Please!" Elsa called, about to chase after her, but Marcus put a hand on her shoulder.

"Let her go, Elsa," Marcus said. "She needs to be alone and think it over."

"No, Marcus, she hates being alone. She needs me."

Marcus shook his head. "She won't listen to you right now no matter what you say. She'll come around. Everyone needs to be alone sometimes. Let her sleep, and find her tomorrow."

Elsa smiled. He was right. She hadn't had anyone whose advice she could rely on since her father had passed away. "Marcus, I care about her so much. I don't want her running off to find comfort from a guy every time she feels like she's not getting comfort from her family."

"Doesn't she want to spend time with a guy even when the two of you are getting along?"

Elsa conceded, "Yes, you have a point. She wants to spend every waking minute with Kristoff, but after what happened at dinner I worry about her alone with him. She doesn't know anything about men."

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," Marcus reassured. "She's feisty, Elsa. She certainly doesn't have a problem sticking up for herself. If anything we should worry about _her_ taking advantage of _him_. She's going to be going after a guy one way or the other. Just be happy he's a nice one."

Elsa laughed. "You've only just met him. How do you know he's nice?"

Marcus shrugged. "I can tell. I read you pretty well, don't I?"


	10. Chapter 10

****New OCs; please give me some feedback on what you think of them!? It's always appreciated.**

**Xx Hayley**

* * *

The Duke of Westley was by a waterfall near Arendelle Castle when he should've been seducing the queen, waiting instead at the summons of his elder brothers. When they arrived minutes after he did, they arrived with a bang. Elsa probably thought there had been an earthquake.

"Brother, are you mad?" the eldest shouted as soon as he touched down, "Pretending to be this ridiculous Marcus fellow, to chase a mortal?"

"This is the form I take in this realm!" the youngest shouted back. "This is who I am here."

"This is not who you are!" the second brother rebuked. "You may look the same and I can only assume you act the same, but it isn't your name and it isn't your place, chasing a mortal."

"She isn't a mortal!" the youngest screamed. "Haven't you witnessed her control of ice? Her power rivals ours."

"Her power rivals _yours_," the second corrected. "She obviously came from your kind."

The eldest intervened. "That's enough, Tyr. She isn't from the race of our enemies. They cursed her bloodline long ago, and it was passed down to her at birth. She's still a mortal."

"Don't you see?" the youngest implored, calmer when speaking to the elder of the two brothers, "She has no idea where it comes from. She discovered the cure, and she still can't control it. I can help her."

The second cut him off, "You can't manipulate her! You're throwing off the balance of this world!"

"Easy, brother," the eldest put a hand to his shoulder, steadying him, "He is very young, and she is very beautiful. Young men do foolish things."

Tyr got an entirely new look on his face. "I am not so old either." He crossed his arms. "If she is beautiful even by your standards, Baldr, perhaps I should provide some competition."

"You should _what_?" Marcus screeched.

"It is not fair to her," his closest brother shrugged, "for the queen to have as your competition a bunch of bumbling mortal men. She'd pick you instantly, almost as if she didn't have a choice. If she's truly a goddess, she deserves more than one god to suit her."

"Brother, you can't!" the youngest and the eldest persisted, but it was too late. Tyr had vanished into thin air. Marcus had no choice but to return to the ball, to await whatever scheme his brother had concocted.

* * *

Elsa didn't know her pulse could be so quick. When was the last time she felt this rush of anxiety and dread-at her coronation maybe? The Princes of the Southern Isles would be at her throne to greet her any second. Was it rational to dislike a group of men entirely, and still want them to find you attractive? Elsa cursed herself for being such a silly girl.

She looked down at her calling card for the evening, which the council had already decided for her.

1. Anders, Second Prince of the Southern Isles.

2. Clemens, Fifth Prince of the Southern Isles.

3. Gregos, Seventh Prince of the Southern Isles.

4. Frans, Eighth Prince of the Southern Isles.

5. Joris, Ninth Prince of the Southern Isles.

6. Mogens, Tenth Prince of the Southern Isles.

7. Nels, Twelfth Prince of the Southern Isles.

8. Reginald, Crown Prince of Champlaine.

9. Wilhelm, Baron of Avahelm.

10. Jacques, Duke of Caranelle.

11. _.

12. Anders, Second Prince of the Southern Isles.

Elsa sighed. She had never danced with a man outside of lessons before, let alone twelve times in a row. She surveyed the list and tried to picture how the evening would go. Anders, the eldest son after the king, was the guest of honor, who would be her first and last dance. Most of the older brothers, including the king, were already married, as they were all well into their thirties, and had thus selected themselves as the ones to stay behind. Jens, the Eleventh Prince, who was hardly older than Elsa, had caused quite a scandal by running off to elope with a village girl and thus would not be in attendance as well.

Slot eight, nine, and ten had gone to the highest rankings of her suitors, with Jacques awarded the final slot because his duchy was within the kingdom of Arendelle, and thus the only suitor who was a permanent member of her court. The eleventh dance on her roster was left up to her own decision. Of course she knew who she would pick, the only one who she would dance with if she wasn't being forced. She surveyed the ever-filling grand ballroom, but couldn't seem to find that handsome devil anywhere.

* * *

At the other end of the ballroom, Nels, the Twelfth Prince of the Southern Isles, was exhausted out of his mind. How could he look the queen and princess in the eyes and say it was nice to meet them? It was terrible to meet them. His older brothers had decided on some messed up scheme to win the throne on the way here, which the king and Nels's married brothers would indefinitely be furious about.

He was just too honest, that was his problem. He was afraid the moment he took the queen's hand for the waltz, he would blurt out something that could get him killed, like, "Don't listen to them; they're just here to manipulate you and take the crown!" He should've run off with a village girl when he'd had the chance. Jens was undoubtedly having a tenfold better time than Nels was right about now.

After feigning interest in the ice sculpture he was sure the queen herself had created with her unsettling powers, Nels spotted a large gentleman in the corner who looked very awkward, which made him very approachable.

"How's it going?" the man asked uncomfortably as Nels perched beside him, mimicking his pose with hands clasped in front. This guy was absolutely massive. Nels looked to his brothers and back, all of whom were dwarfed by comparison. What were they feeding the nobility in this kingdom, raw protein for breakfast, lunch, and dinner? Or was the queen commissioning her courtiers to do lumber work on the side?

"Very well, thank you," he said, extending his hand to the gentleman, "Nels, Twelfth Prince of the Southern Isles."

The man had a loose grip, which Nels was thankful for considering the hand's mammoth diameter. "Kristoff Bjorgman."

Nels laughed at himself. Of course he was so large; this man was the hired help. How idiotic he must have looked shaking his hand.

Just then, the trumpets blared, signaling the start of the first dance. Nels couldn't believe it. The person who came up and laced her arm through the giant's elbow was none other than the gorgeous little princess.

That was it; Nels quit. His brothers could sort this out for themselves. He really should head out, and find some nice girl back home. This international diplomacy stuff was way too much for him.


	11. Chapter 11

****Slight edit to the end 12/18/13, 11:12 central.. Hope that might make it a bit more clear. I'm having a bit of a rough time putting my thoughts on paper with these more dramatic scenes. You said you wanted longer chapters, and I am nothing if not a spineless people pleaser.**

**...sarcasm...**

**Anyway, happy reading!**

**Xx Hayley**

Despite her preoccupation with seeing him through every dance of the night, in an instant Elsa forgot about Marcus. The man who had stormed into the ballroom had thoroughly captured her attention.

He was heading straight for her, never mind that she was in the middle of waltzing with a prince. He had shoved the heavy oak doors open, one with each hand, like they were made of snow.

His walk was powerful, like he owned the place. Below his broad shoulders, his forearms were turned in a way so that his palms faced her, the way Elsa walked when she let her powers take over.

Elsa broke away from whichever prince she was still positioned to dance with. The music stopped abruptly. The council appeared to be panicked that this diplomat had not been announced.

He took her hand before either he or Elsa had spoken, and kissed the back, just as Marcus had, before lingering, his lips on the back of her silk glove, for longer than was appropriate. Who were these insane men that the council had elected to court her? "Tyr, King of Friedhelm."

Elsa felt the room give a silent gasp. Friedhelm shared the longest border with Arendelle and was their greatest, most necessary ally. "The king of Friedhelm is an elderly man," Elsa said, peering at the gorgeous young noble in front of her. He couldn't be more than thirty.

"A recent king, I am," he corrected. Elsa had her doubts, but what was she to do, throw him back to Friedhelm after he'd just been summoned to meet her? "May I have this dance?"

"It would be my pleasure," she said formally, extending her hand to him again.

He replied formally in return, "The pleasure is mine, Your Highness." This meant that she had completely changed the order of her calling card, but he was a king. She was socially obligated to dance with him alone for the rest of the evening if he so desired, not that it would take much persuasion. His shoulders were broad as Kristoff's but with a smaller waist. His hair was cropped short on the neck like a warrior, while the front remained full and golden blonde, contrasting the long fashion worn by the rest of the court.

When the dance, which Tyr had executed marvelously, was over, Elsa felt so overwhelmed. Either she would insult the king by ignoring him or insult all the other suitors at once by focusing her attention on the king. The nobility of Friedhelm and Arendelle had a long history. Even if she didn't go for the king, her children or Anna's would surely be set up with a suitor from Friedhelm. She would have to see him at international council at least once a year for the rest of her life.

So many high borne were seeking her hand that it would be unthinkable for her to choose a duke or even a prince too far removed from the throne. If she rejected crown princes, second-to-the-crown heirs, and kings, it would be the same as isolating Arendelle entirely. She glared at her council. What an atrocious idea this had been. They had set her up to do nothing but fail. What were they thinking, inviting a king?

The power restrained by her elbow length gloves was starting to glow icy blue through the fine white silk. Her breath caught in her throat. This was not going to be her coronation all over again. Uncaring for the suitors she had yet to acquaint, she slipped out through a side door and raced to the royal gardens. The gardens were behind the castle at a slightly lower elevation, but she could still see clearly the three-story high windows of the ballroom, lit up like square moons with skirts as comets, rhythmically twirling past.

The main feature of the garden was a massive and intricately carved labyrinth. She had heard that the original had been the work of mountain trolls, but the castle gardeners changed the path so often that no one could remember the original design. She walked into one of the many entrances and wound deeper into the maze, not far enough to get lost, but enough to feel completely alone. After the years she spent in isolation, she hadn't realized how alarming it was to be in a room full of people.

She stopped at random and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. She stared down at her palms, whose frantic glow was beginning to wane. With her left hand she touched two fingers to the bridge of her nose, telling herself that she'd be ready to return inside in only a minute.

Softness exhaled behind her. "Is something wrong, darling?"

Elsa whipped around into an instant warrior's stance, as if about to freeze her opponent into eternity. Predictably, there stood Marcus, dressed to the nines with his palms up in surrender and that ever present smile playing across his lips.

"How did you get in here?" she demanded, not relaxing her attack pose.

He chuckled, smile wide, looking off at what appeared to be nothing. "This is a bunch of hedges trimmed into a circle. How could I _not_ get in here?"

"Why are you here, then?" she persisted, slacking her arms down but keeping her high-heeled feet in ready position.

"Same as you, I suppose," he shrugged, "escaping the crowd."

How did he know that? She looked into his eyes, impossibly green, her own narrowed to make obvious her suspicion. "Elsa," he shook his head.

She snapped, eyes still narrowed, "What?"

"You intimidate me so much normally. You really don't have to try so hard now." Elsa blushed, inwardly, of course. She was wearing far too much powder for it to show either way. She felt silly for being suspicious of him. What had been her concern anyway, that he had followed her? He had come from deeper in the maze than she was. "How was your talk with Anna?"

That was not what she was expecting. She had not thought about the talk she had with her sister since this morning, what with her fretting over the guests. "It went decently at best. She isn't cross with me anymore."

"That's lovely," Marcus said, stepping closer as was his custom. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I suppose," Elsa trailed off, holding her elbows as if she were chilled, "but she's still unhappy about it. I don't care much how she feels about me if she's bothered by the past."

Marcus was standing behind her now. How he moved so silently was a mystery to Elsa. "What are you doing?"

He was closer still and still with his customary smirk. "Comforting you."

"I prefer to comfort myself," informed Elsa, making it sound like a challenge. "I prefer to be alone."

"I don't believe you," Marcus retorted, a lock of his slick black hair grazing her shoulder, exposed in her wide-necked gown.

"It's true," she turned to him. "I've been dealing with things alone for twenty-one years. I don't plan on changing now."

"Fine," he shook his head, the hair he'd tucked behind an ear falling in front of his face. "Suit yourself. I'll be at the ball in that crowded room full of strangers if you need me."

Elsa stared at his back as he walked away. It was such a perfect shape, strong shoulders tapering into a slender waist. The words "if you need me," were resonating in her head.

"Marcus, wait," she called as soon as he was out of sight. She heard his laugh, unrestrained as always. He was in front of her in a second. "What if _you_ need _me_?"

His hands rested on her forearms. "I should've phrased that better, considering you don't need anyone. I'll be around if you want me." Great. Now something entirely different was ringing through her thoughts. _If you want me. _What was wrong with her?

"Elsa, can I see your hands?" She extended them, strangely distracted. _You want me._

She snapped back to the present with the shock of feeling the air on her fingertips. She had no restraint. "Why do you keep taking off my gloves?"

He looked her straight in the eyes, their faces so close now that he was peering down to meet her gaze. "You don't need them," he explained almost fiercely.

"Yes, I do!" She did not hold anything back. "I am not in control. You should've seen me in there. I will not have my coronation again."

"You don't need them," he muttered as if admitting defeat, "I know you don't."

His unusual look startled Elsa. He actually looked dejected. Why did he care? Elsa had a weird urge to kiss his prominent cheekbone._ If you want me. _

It was then that Elsa realized that no matter if she did want Marcus, she could never marry him. No matter how much he accepted the thing that she hated, she had to choose a suitor of higher rank. It was her duty. She was furious at herself, at him for being so persistent, and especially at her situation.

Her fury, as it always had, made her lose her mind.

She grabbed the back of his neck, sharply, and pulled him to her lips.

He pulled back immediately. His shock was obvious. His neck was iced over, frozen.

"Oh, Marcus, I'm-," Elsa started to apologize, frantic.

Marcus got a look in his eyes she'd never seen before from anyone, somehow fierce, or hungry. He cradled her face in both hands and kissed her intensely, roughly. She'd never been kissed and never imagined it would be like this. If she couldn't have him as a suitor she was at least fortunate to know what it was like to kiss him.

"What is going on here?" Marcus and Elsa pushed away from each other, staring at the third party in the maze.

It was the king. Elsa's marriage prospects were doomed. "What is the meaning of this?" No one answered him. Elsa half-expected Marcus to defend her in some way. He said nothing but maintained a glare filled with so much hate it was almost terrifying.

"These are the kind of escapades reserved for after marriage, Your Highness," the king said, stepping closer to Elsa.

_Too bad I can never marry him_, thought Elsa.

"That's quite enough of speaking this way to a queen. I don't care who you are," Marcus said, turning to leave as though he expected Elsa to follow him.

She did not leave, not yet. She could not risk offending the king. "I am not familiar with these matters," she informed him bleakly, regal as always.

"You should be aware," the king said, moving uncomfortably close to her now. She looked down the path for help or clarity or whatever she was seeking, but Marcus was out of sight. She was not sure what the king intended. She was not sure what she thought he intended, either. But the anxiety she was feeling overtook her composure. Frost pulsed through her veins to her palms, and speared his leg with a lethally sharp shard of ice.

She gasped. Her mind felt paralyzed, but her feet were certainly not. In what felt like seconds she was beyond the castle, beyond the town, among the trees, and free.

When she was adequately far from the havoc that she had most definitely wrought for her kingdom, she collapsed onto the grass.

In the distance she heard thunder. She saw flashes of lightening through her curtain of hair.

She counted the snowflakes, one by one, as they landed on her back.


	12. Chapter 12

"What have you done with her?" Marcus screeched, appearing out of thin air in front of his brother.

"She speared me and vanished," Tyr touched his bleeding thigh.

"Her magic actually broke your flesh?" Marcus laughed heartily. "And you had the audacity to call her a mortal."

Tyr shot him a glare. "She is certainly not a god."

"Neither are we," Marcus shook his head. "The mortals once thought we were because of our advanced abilities. Her abilities are impressive. She already rules this land. Imagine all she can conquer."

Tyr smirked. "You make a convincing argument, brother. I shall have to try all the more to win her hand."

Marcus pursed his lips. "Because you're doing such an extraordinary job as it were."

"Yes," Tyr conceded, "it seems that for whatever reason she allows only you to get so intimidatingly close. I shall employ other tactics. Those that she is closest with seem to have infinite influence over her decision-making. She will do anything to protect her sister."

Marcus was now leaning against a hedge in the dark night, forearms and ankles both crossed. "You've been watching her even before our chat? Now you're planning tactical maneuvers? You are beginning to sound more like the God of Mischief than the God of Law."

Tyr shrugged. "There are no laws against finding out more about the object of my interest. I'm sure you haven't restrained from trickery in your attempts to woo her."

Marcus examined his nails. "There is no need for manipulation, considering the effect I seem to have on her naturally."

"There is no need? You claim to not manipulate her, while you hide behind the identity of a mortal? Tell her your real name," challenged Tyr. "She will hate you, as all the other mortals do."

"I am not the only one, King of Friedhelm." Marcus turned to leave, bored of his brother's insolence.

"I _am_ the King of Friedhelm. Seizing the throne set me back an hour." Tyr looked towards the sky as a light snow began to fall. "Is it the queen who causes this?"

"It certainly is not me," quipped Marcus, glancing back as the snow dusted his dark hair.

* * *

Anna was having the most wonderful night with Kristoff. Of course he wasn't the most graceful dancer, but she still loved her dances with him more than any of Elsa's suitors. Kristoff, to her surprise, cleaned up well. Pippingsly had dressed him to the nines in a suit that was still a bit too taut over his broad shoulder and thigh muscles. Anna shyly did not mind. Kristoff had been elected, by Anna, naturally, to style his own hair, which he had simply slicked back out of his face. She was happy when her dance ended from Prince Whoever of the Southern Isles. Not only did she find all of the princes way too similar to Hans for comfort, but she missed the way Kristoff awkwardly averted his eyes when she held his gaze for far too long during a waltz.

"May I have this dance, my lady?" an unusually deep voice asked just at the song came to an end.

"I, uh," Anna stammered, abruptly extending her arm, "I don't believe we've met."

He kissed the back of her hand in a way that reminded her of someone else she'd recently met. "I am Tyr, King of Friedhelm."

She curtsied, peppy and cute. "I am Princess Anna, of Arendelle."

"I know that, dear," the king placed a hand on her waist, as if to begin their dance. "How could I miss one so unique as you?"

Anna blushed and put a hand on his shoulder. "I don't know about all that."

Meanwhile, Marcus had his eyes on the gigantic man whose teeth were clenched in his brother's direction. That was always a good sign.

"Kristoff, is it?" Marcus asked before he was even close enough for proper conversation.

"Yes, er," the large blonde hesistated, obviously having forgotten the duke's name.

"Marcus, Duke of Westley," the slender man offered along with his hand. "Remembering trivialities is hardly worth your time, anyway, old sport."

Kristoff glanced sideways, unsure of how to respond. "Not much for mindless chat?" Marcus broke in before giving him an adequate amount of time. "That's quite alright; I have something of importance to bring up to you, regardless." Kristoff started to open his mouth but Marcus continued, gesturing to Anna. "The princess, is it you who loves her?"

Kristoff cleared his throat. It was an odd question from a stranger, but he was nothing if not direct. "Yes, indefinitely. Is there a problem?"

"Yes, one might say that," Marcus adjusted his cufflinks. "It concerns her sister."

Kristoff turned to him suddenly. "Elsa? Where is she? Has something happened to her?"

"I noticed snow begin to fall outside. Though I've no idea why, I think she is causing it."

"I have to tell Anna," Kristoff said immediately. "She will want to go after her."

Marcus's forehead wrinkled thoughtfully. "Yes, _Anna_ will want to go after her. But do you really think that's wise? Elsa is trying to win a suitor, not scare off all of Arendelle's allies, and the princess isn't exactly," he paused to search for a delicate word, "subtle."

Kristoff shook his head. "Elsa needs her sister. Anna can get through to her."

Marcus shrugged, one eyebrow raised higher than the other. "And how well has that worked out in the past?" When the mountain man did not reply, Marcus lounged one heel as he wrapped an arm around Kristoff's shoulders. "The queen can take care of herself. I expect she will return of her own accord soon enough. The best thing to do now is to keep any of the guests from noticing the sudden change in the weather."

"Right," Kristoff hesitantly agreed. "I will go close the curtains."

Marcus clapped him on the back before disappearing. "Good man."

Kristoff glanced to where Marcus had been standing next to him. For a skinny guy he sure was quick on his feet.

Kristoff hurriedly covered all the windows in the ballroom and barred the doors. No one should be leaving this late at night, anyway, but one could never be too cautious. After hiding the evidence in the obvious places, Kristoff sought out the second floor, rushing up a curving staircase. If he could meander up here, so could some random guest and he did not want Elsa's reputation to be damaged ever further.

He found himself in front of grand doors near the end of the hall. When he stepped in, he was amazed. He had never seen anything like this. The high walls were lined with massive painting after massive painting, no doubt all priceless, one-of-a-kind works of art. He smiled as he looked up to the left; he particularly liked one of a young woman kicking her legs out on a swing.

"What are you doing in here?" a dainty voice asked behind him.

He turned to find the petite princess with her hands on her hips. "I just came in to shut the curtains!" he exclaimed a bit too loudly. He wasn't lying, but he hated keeping things from Anna. _The snow will worry her for no reason_, he told himself.

Suddenly Kristoff's eyes fixed on the largest painting in the room. It featured a regal gentlemen, dressed in military regalia of the highest rank. "Do you know that man?" he asked Anna.

"Yes," she nodded, eyes widening in concern for his strong reaction. "That's my father."

Kristoff looked to her momentarily before squinting at the eerily familiar face in the portrait. "I know him, from somewhere."

Anna curled up her mouth. "Well, I think most subjects would recognize the king."

"Yes," Kristoff agreed, jogging his memory. "Yes! I remember. He was there the day I found the Valley of the Living Rock."

"What?" Anna's mouth hung open. "How could that be?"

"Princess!" rang through the door abruptly. It was the Head Councilman, in a panic. "I couldn't find you or your sister anywhere. We can hardly have a ball without the queen or the princess present."

"Wait, Kristoff," Anna began.

"Later," he hushed her, leading back to the ballroom. "I will tell you later."


End file.
